Tuesday, August 31, 2004

Much better than anything at Leeds was listening to The Libertines new joint last night, up to my eyeballs in congestion, imbibing mild intoxicants and watching a frantic, ill and highly contagious M desperately trying to do some work. And saving the life of a cat that wanted to jump out of a first storey window. It set me up for a sleepless night of lung pain, general discomfort and breathlessness perfectly. I'm not fit for sitting at this desk. Sniffing at this desk, yes. Sitting, no. I'd happily be shot today.

posted by dave - 12:19 pm

Monday, August 30, 2004D'oh! Carling Leeds was a bit of a letdown. Should've known. Best thing was Phil Kay getting his kit off in the comedy tent and chasing a heckler right outta there.

Happy birthday to Scott. 12 today. The recipient of a new shiny bike and lots of love. It was a nice morning indeed. Same can't be said for the afternoon, which, despite a nice pint and a burger, involved varying degrees of illness for both of us and a little bit more confrontation than necessary.

posted by dave - 11:57 am

Post Carling, post small family gathering, post filing copy in the early hours, pre-Scott's birthday exhaustion. Shouldn't complain - I have eaten 12 mini-Scotch eggs, countless party sausages, a fair share of sausage rolls and several bottles of Stella and, even in my Mr Creosote state, I survived. Talking of which, nipped over the the garage for some toilet rolls just as the man behind the counter was suffering from a strange bout of vomit-inducing, bile-rising indigestion. "Ooh," he belched, "I'll have to cut down on the butties. I was eating them all over again then." Mmmm, lovely.

posted by dave - 12:49 am

Friday, August 27, 2004Should I feel quilty that I started tapping my feet halfway through the Sugababes set? Should I feel disappointed at the lack of hospitality for members of the press, save for a bit of mulch on the overly muddy areas? Should I just lose this anger I feel for manufactured bands? Ah well, Danielle and her friend had good old night, flaunting their press credentials for all they were worth (not much, as it happens, other than a soggy sandwich, a can of Dr Pepper and a scrum to get near Darius. Here's to more of the same at Carling Leeds, only replace Darius with 50 Cent). Not too many 14-year-olds manage to get 3/4 of a page and bylines in a newspaper. Aw, I'm a proud father today.

posted by dave - 10:51 am

Thursday, August 26, 2004Please don't rain. Please. Watching Ronan Keating is torture and punishment enough without being pissing wet through and smelling like a damp dog. Please, don't rain.

posted by dave - 4:26 pm

Wednesday, August 25, 2004Snooped around the new home of Northern Theatre yesterday. Very nice it is too, located as it is at the 100-year-old former home of the Hull School of Art & Design. It became Northern's for a mere snip at £200,000. As a trustee I had to sign a piece of paper that secured the bank loan that allowed the purchase. I'm sure in the months ahead I'll finally come into my own and be able to offer lots of media relations advice and contacts for them to exploit but yesterday I felt a bit like a gatecrasher at someone else's party. But it was a nice hour, nevertheless.

The house is coming along nicely. The living room is looking good - albeit ridiculously minimalist - and two bedrooms are almost revamped. It won't be long before we're able to knuckle down to being creative souls once more, hurling the paint rollers into the dustbin. The dreaded Foxy & Tom's Big Bash takes place tomorrow. Still no news on tix. Such is the heady world of ILR. Helping write the review should be funny, with two apathetic 14-year-old girls wandering into the paper immediately after the gig and me having to make sense of their grunts about Girls Aloud and the Sugababes ("d'uh, I dunno, they were rubbish. Can we have a McDonalds now?"). Always one to take the easy option when it arrives in the mail I based this week's column on a daft press release I got from Lego, pointing out that Blue (also performing at the Big Bash) are about to unveil Lego models of themselves. Has the world gone mad? What a waste of Lego. I shan't be taking up the offer of an interview with the boys at Legoland Windsor. By then I shall already have spat at them backstage, which is probably more than they deserve anyway.

posted by dave - 10:59 am

Tuesday, August 24, 2004There I was, avoiding work, when I found William Gibson's blog, only to find that he stopped blogging on September 12, 2003. I'm sure the blog-obsessed will see themselves in this quote from his final post....

I’ve found blogging to be a low-impact activity, mildly narcotic and mostly quite convivial, but the thing I’ve most enjoyed about it is how it never fails to underline the fact that if I’m doing this I’m definitely not writing a novel – that is, if I’m still blogging, I’m definitely still on vacation. I’ve always known, somehow, that it would get in the way of writing fiction, and that I wouldn’t want to be trying to do both at once. The image that comes most readily to mind is that of a kettle failing to boil because the lid’s been left off.

When I get round to working on this thing that's currently a lot of mental notes and the odd email but soon to be a whole lot more, I might have to sign off for a while too. Damn you, Gibson! Must you always be right?

posted by dave - 12:01 pm

The Pocklington residence now reeks of the stench of fresh paint. There's lots to do and we're getting on with it. It will all grind to a halt at the weekend, when we're Carling Leeds-bound for noisy musical fun in the mud and rubbing up against jellied eel lovin' barrow boy Mike Skinner in the media tent (note to self: buy new wellies). By then we'll (M and myself - Mike Skinner's not helped out with the decorating one bit. He must be busy ramming his arms down the back of his telly again. How many times, Mike, do we have to remind you that a grand don't come for free? Get your white overalls on, pick up your roller and brush and get yourself over here) both be covered in flecks of pink 'n' blue emulsion and festival-goers will probably wish they'd gone for a similar eye-catching Jackson Pollockesque aesthetic rather than donning their baggiest black jumpers, jeans and bin liner. I'm all excited about the prospect of Leeds. What's more, it's free, it's a weekend closer to eastern Europe and just a day before Scott's birthday. Naturally, we'll miss all the best acts (Morrisey, White Stripes, Libertines and, ha, ha, Dizzee Rascal) cos we're having a shindig at the new place on Sunday instead. In dreamland, Pete and Carl are reunited on a Leeds stage before taking on the world and fulfilling their potential while, just 30 miles away, we're munching on the best god-damned veggie burgers ever rolled into the traditional burger shape. Now, we wouldn't want to miss that gastronomic treat, would we? Party time, hey!Moodometer: Happy

posted by dave - 9:34 am

Monday, August 23, 2004The problem with being a dreamer is that sometimes reality comes crashing around you to remind you that life can be a bit of a letdown. I think we're both disappointed to have left York behind. It's a city where heady optimism is the norm. Anything seemed possible. It even felt, at times, like we were living in a magical theme park. We just have to remind ourselves that anything is possible. Even in Pocklington! We have more room (which was the point of moving really, and not something we could manage to afford in the land of the Viking) the commute is much less, we might still have a broadband connection and we have the love of a good cat to get us through those cold nights. Bring on eastern Europe, says I. To say we're both ready for a holiday is probably the understatement of the year.

Bedtime reading: Harold Pinter's The Collection

posted by dave - 9:27 am

Saturday, August 21, 2004Erm...not much happened today. Oh, no, there was something. Erm....we moved house!

posted by dave - 9:26 am

Friday, August 20, 2004Before it all started in Najaf BBC News were describing this latest instalment in the World Series of war as the 'final showdown'. They have been watching too many war films, methinks. The 'final showdown' will be a whole lot bloodier, messier and bigger than this US bombardment of Shia 'rebels'. That's not to say this particular battle in the name of democracy is not bloody, messy and big enough. But we're just at the start of this particular part of history, are we not? Let's hope the 'final showdown' never happens. But if it doesn't, it'll be no thanks the the people pulling the strings of the US Army, who have also seen too many war films and will think nothing of giving the orders to blow the crap out of a holy shrine.

Meanwhile, in domestic news, cats in transit are particularly messy creatures. Penny had to dodge some faeces of her own making on the journey to her temporary home this morning. Every corner turned resulted in the relocation of the faeces and Penny scurrying out of its way. Poor thing. Carling tix have arrived. The check-in procedure looks an absolute joy. Certainly too much effort for a half-page review. Still, we'll be hob nobbing with the stars for a couple of days.

Ego: Crushed

posted by dave - 9:41 am

Thursday, August 19, 2004Apparently, tho I'll believe it when it happens, the Carling weekend tickets are on the way. Phew, that's one weight off. Now just need to bundle the entire contents of a house into the back of a van and we're sorted. Two days and we're out of York. Seven days and I'm at some appalling independent radio mimed-music fest. Eight days and I'm at Carling Leeds. Ten days and we're having a Mexican-themed house warming-cum-barbecue. 17 days and we'll be weaving our way towards eastern Europe and preparing to shout loudly at the natives of Czechoslovakia, Hungary, Belgium, Germany, France and Poland. Life is grrrrrrreeeeaaaaatttttt, as Tony the Tiger used to growl. I'm going to start writing an internet spot in the paper soon so if anyone wants a plug, make me aware of those urls now.

It's late. Am tired. Sitting alone. One minute it was yesterday, now it's tomorrow. We're moving house. We've not yet packed. Have penned a review. Someone has ploughed through the blog archives. I like that, whoever you are. Or do I? Who is it? Still no sign of Carling Leeds passes. Or cheque I'm owed that will cover a cheque I'm writing soon. Got another parking ticket earlier. That's two unpaid tix. Eyes hurt. Screen resolution's really small. We were in the paper. Again. There's no business like show business. Unless you're a friend of Michael Barrymore. Quarterpound char grilled Tesco veggie burgers are rather nice. Tired. Burnt out. Frazzled. Believe the hype. Believe.

posted by dave - 12:24 am

Wednesday, August 18, 2004A very strange sight this morning. An armoured Securicor van on its side, with two Securicor-looking gents stood at the side scratching their heads Stan Laurel-style. Not another vehicle in sight at all. Checked about for film crews, thinking I was on the set of a heist movie, or hard looking bastards carrying swag bags but couldn't see either. Just the van, on its side. Should've stopped, I suppose, but just copied everyone else and rubber-necked my way past.

We've had a press release through. Apparently a lorry sent the Securicor van flying through the air. The driver got away with minor shoulder injuries and turned down a trip to the hospital. Damn, I wish I'd wandered over and can-opened my way through to the van's contents.

Three of the behemoths of the theatre world sat together last night. Myself, M and Alan Ayckbourn. Not one of the man's greatest plays, I must say. Though, even though we were in such close proximity, I didn't tell him that. M thought he was laughing heartily at his own jokes but that was another chap, equally excited to be sat near the most performed living playwright. Did the bloke sitting next to Shakespeare on the press night of Twelfth Night faux laugh at the gags, I wonder? The Scarboro' food experience was a bit of a letdown. Is it me or is the food half of a Wetherspoon's beer and burger getting smaller and smaller? I remember a time when you got a side salad, had to cut the burger into quarters and got a mountain of chips. Those days are over. Glad to see the tradition of lots of red-nosed piss artists making the most of cheap beer hasn't yet drawn to a close. Why, they'll be charging £2 for a pint next.

posted by dave - 2:14 pm

Tuesday, August 17, 2004Made the most of a very dull day. Found myself talking about designing a flying chariot powered by chickens, thus changing the entire look and feel of Ben Hur. And cladding the house with fancy lattice pastryware. And a lengthy discussion about chavs, teds, townies or whatever you'd like to call them. Someone here was completely unaware of the rise of the Burberry-hat wearing underclass. Hence a masterclass in what they are. "But oh," they said, "We'll never get them in my swanky village. It's full of employed posh people." Come the glorious day, an army of socks-tucked-in-the-trousers lads and their dangly-earringed deranged girlfriends will clamber over a hill and rip the deluded middle classes and their aspirational lifestyles, Volvos and black labrador/King Charles spaniel apart. Come on, underclass scum, mobilise yourselves. No lunch (and therefore no city centre big screen action. Damn. The thing will never earn it's £675,000 back at this rate) today due to early departure due to seaside trip to see another new Ayckbourn play (think he's at number 7,893 or something. Most of them feature pilchards, village fetes and/or faulty androids). I had a nice chat with him a few weeks ago and he told me there's something like 52 scenes in Private Fears in Public Places, which sounds a rather daft idea and could be quite good. Still, if it's not there's always the fish and chips on the seafront to look forward to.

posted by dave - 10:53 pm

Monday, August 16, 2004What is synchronised diving all about?

posted by dave - 3:53 pm

The joy of hearing Can't Stand Me Now in HMV was balanced by the vomit-inducing saxophonic muzak version of Private Dancer playing in the el cheapo bookshop opposite. Tempting though it was I resisted dancing around cut-priced versions of Ben Elton's Gridlock a la Tina Turner. All manner of low life now has an excuse to stand (rather than squat and drink Woodpecker cider while waiting to score) in the city centre of Hull following the council's purchase of a massive screen upon which the Olympics are currently being broadcast. I joined them to devour a sandwich while watching the boxing. A reporter writing yet another "why have the council wasted their money on this waste of money it's a waste of money" story was overheard to ask, "so, where is the screen?" There's desk bound and there's desk bound - the screen in question is all of a two minute walk away from the office. There was a quite healthy if grubby looking crowd loitering and shouting "hit 'im". I can see all 275,000 residents of Hull turning up at the same time when something good's on, I really can. There was a street preacher wearing a fancy Madonna Live Virgin-era headset who started to annoy people watching the big screen action because he was drowning out the Olympian sound with his shouts of "Do you want to do the Lord's work? Do you?" The answers were not, on the whole, very positive, nor longer than two words.

posted by dave - 12:41 pm

Sunday, August 15, 2004The morning (actually, I think you'll find it's the afternoon, you lazy bastard.- blog editor) after the night before. Feel like I was at something really special last night, hence the gushing entry when I got in. Filed my review and it's a very sycophantic 450 words indeed (the guy deserves it!). I'll post it on my website once the paper have had their way with it. Back down to earth soon enough, though, thanks to a shaving accident. Got a little bit too close to my massive nose and cut a big chunk of skin off. Ouch. I bled for ages, which was a little worrying. I'm holding Bic responsible. I knew it was a mistake buying those 'sensitive skin' razors. I didn't have it before but I certainly have now. Or, rather, I don't. Suddenly facial hair is appealing. Especially on a female Olympian.One thing I did find puzzling last night was all those losers that take their mobile phones to gigs these days. Why not wait and buy the DVD when it's released and let the rest of us enjoy ourselves without your flip-top phone getting in the way?

Shaking off Doherty by listening to: The Beta Band - Hot Shots II

posted by dave - 1:49 pm

Pete Doherty is fucking ace! He's the past, present and future of music. May he be saved from that fate he looks destined for and keep doing what he did on stage tonight. A true genius, the most enigmatic singer that's ever grabbed and held my attention. And enormous respect to the big fat security guard who kept order at the Welly as dozens of spotty kids joined their (and mine) string-vested hero on stage. Do yourselves and favour and download everything you can from here right now. Thanks Pete.

posted by dave - 1:28 am

Saturday, August 14, 2004So tonight's the night. Doherty at the Welly. Doubt he'll turn up. There'll be a riot. But still, to get me in the mood have been playing Libertines stuff since the early hours. Such is the rock n roll lifestyle, however, that I now find myself being bombarded with David Essex who's a guest with Jonathan Ross stand-in Mark Lamar on Radio 2. Life on the edge, eh? In an effort to overcome all the IT problems we're suffering at the moment I sent a nice email to Apple's European press office yesterday trying to blag a free iBook on which to pen my weekly column. In a not entirely negative move they offered to give me one for a 'limited period', which I thought was pretty cool. But not cool enough to stop me writing to various other technology companies to blag free computers off them instead. Met up with someone yesterday who reads the blog. It's very odd talking about what you've been up to when they remember it better than you do! Considering moving the whole shebang over to blogdrive now, where I'll be able to do more exciting layout stuff. Be nice to know what other people think?Last night's love: Olympics opening ceremony in Athens. I wanted to hate it! Argggh! Listening to: The Libertines - Can't Stand Me Now/Never Never/Cyclops/Dilly Boys/Up The Bracket Going to: York city centre to check out a pub or two before chugging to the Welly and telling the door staff "I'm on the guest list!" Have you used this word recently?: Doolally

posted by dave - 10:49 am

Friday, August 13, 2004Typically inane independent local radio news sting heard on the way to work: "....(adopts ludicrously sombre tone) reports just coming in that Britons are being held at knifepoint in Iraq...(as if suddenly tickled by feathers)...and a big screen provides a boost for Hull city centre. More on the hour."

As all efforts to get a link posted to here from The Guardian's weblog have come to nothing (mainly due to me constantly emailing complaints about dead and dodgy links and making Jane Perrone's life hell) I've turned to the Hull Daily Mail in an effort to drive the hit count up. So welcome, if you've made the journey, you crazy fool you. I told you it would be dull.

Have checked to make sure that Pete Doherty is definitely playing Hull tomorrow after reading in the NME that he's also due on stage at the Duke of Wellington in Lincoln. I know I've elevated him to God-like status but I didn't think he was omnipresent. Drugs can do marvellous things, eh? But no, the promoters assure me that Pete knows exactly where he's at, having checked on his status with the tour company every few seconds since he buggered off home without playing the Camden Barfly the other night. Plus, heroin is surely cheaper in Hull than it is in Lincoln. Pete knows which side his bread's buttered. Hurrah!

posted by dave - 11:36 am

Thursday, August 12, 2004What on earth is happening to me? Last night I found myself doing Yoga in the living room. I should add that there was a point when I could feel all of the pain I suffer being forced out of my back. But this isn't the type of behaviour I often indulge in. It was such a shock to the system that I had to wash away the horror of peculiar breathing techniques with a can of Carling Black Label. Suffice to say it was a short-term fix. This morning my back hurts much more than usual. So am I to up the Yoga to extreme levels or blame it for aggravating my worn out old vertebrae? Have just discovered that there's something called the Triad Yoga Institute. Now, you wouldn't want to mess with those secretive folk. And now I'm gulity by association of all kinds of protection racket, gambling, prostitution and drugs shenanigans. All because I did a bit of bending and stretching. And now the 14K, the Wo Shing Wo and the Sun Yee On want to know where I learned my moves. They won't believe me when I say Geri Halliwell and then I can kiss goodbye to several of my fingers. I have brought disgrace on the world of Yoga. And there's nothing for it but to carry on until I'm lithe, healthy and in full control of my nasal passages. You see!?! You see where exercise gets you?!?

Have just received a press release full of guff exclaiming that the next summer hit we'll all be dancing to and buying millions of copies of will be Chocolate Choco Choco by some 'band' called Soul Control. In a world where Chocolate Choco Choco is the dog's bollocks, surely Busted are Nirvana, Rachel Stevens is Courtney Love and Will Young is John Lydon? "If you would like to grab an interview with Soul Control before they top the charts and we have limited time with don't hesitate..." I don't think! Apologies for all the exclamation marks, that's what having the descendants of Chiu Chao just a few paces behind does to you.

Will it: Ever stop raining? Will we: Ever get packed in time to move house? Will they: They? Who are they? Will You: ng

posted by dave - 9:35 am

Wednesday, August 11, 2004Forget chemical weapons - umbrellas are more threatening to life in the big city. Managed to weave my way around Hull city centre with the golf brolly opened up, taking out people's eyes and removing several limbs on a tortuous journey from the office to HMV. It was great fun. There were a few umbrella-offs, as people with similarly enormous rain defenders approached in the opposite direction, but I stood my ground and refused to retract my red and white impaler. Today's lesson was that pavements were not designed with the huge girth of golf brollies in mind. A better idea than an umbrella would be to build massive retractable roofs over cities.Sad retrospective and totally anachronistic car cassette: Stereo MC's Connected

posted by dave - 3:42 pm

Tuesday, August 10, 2004Richard Pryor never met anyone who said when they were a kid, "I wanna grow up and be a critic." I shall be using this nugget in any subsequent revamps of The Worst Seat in the House. As someone that has earned a relatively decent amount of money leeching off talent and writing spiteful rubbish about stand-ups, who are always hilarious, original and value for money, I feel a need to think of other things that we would never have said we wanted to be when we grew up. I didn't know what critics were when I was a kid, that's for sure. Lap dancer, that's one I wouldn't have thought of when I was five. Fuhrer is another. Call centre operator, perhaps? I wonder if the world of criticism will fall apart when I hang up my critic's pen? Who cares. Pryor's right. Bless the celebrity chef Al Murray for asking the great man the question. Actually, I never met anyone who said when they were a kid, "I wanna grow up and be on a reality TV show with Gordon Ramsay."

posted by dave - 2:42 pm

Blogging should be particularly difficult today as the editor of the paper I work for has chosen to sit next to me (it's staff holiday time). So there should be no internet tomfoolery at all, nor any late arrival (eek, 8.50am). Yet here I am, on my second entry of the day. It all feels naughty and subversive, which is what I live for. This week I've decided to write about the rise of blogging for the column I pen and am link-hopping through thousands of blogs for inspiration. Such as this new one, which I particularly love. If only writing a column were as easy as writing a blog, eh? What do you mean, my blog's sub-standard rubbish? Just like the column? Why, I'm about to be nominated for the Yorkshire Press Awards in a tongue-in-cheek effort to get recognised at this hell-hole of a building, you damn crazy fools. If only my talent was recognised as quickly as the house we currently live in, which was snapped off the market just two days after the signs went up (it was a curiously stealth-like piece of sign erection. They made no noise and nobody saw them in action but still the signs appeared). If it were then a trendy young couple would be on the verge of moving into me. No, no, no, please don't let them.

posted by dave - 1:30 pm

For months I've been seeing lorries that belong to Bobby Brown Haulage. I'm as certain as I can be that they are owned by the Bobby Brown. Well, when I say the Bobby Brown I don't mean the New York Yankies' baseball legend who balanced his bat swinging with a parallel career as a medical student. No, I mean the wayward RnB singer who had it all, blew it all and snorted a large proportion of it; Bobby Brown the jailed drunk driver; Bobby Brown the Whitney Houston beater. Naturally, he turned to haulage as a way of paying the child support he owed to the mother of two of his children. But this morning I saw a better one. David Gray Haulage. I was a little disappointed that the wagon lacked a "Say Hello, Wave Goodbye as you pass" sticker but, still, you can't have everything. I wondered what had happened to David and felt a little concerned that his follow up to White Ladder didn't really do the business. But, again, haulage has saved a musician from a life in the gutter. I figure that Celebrity Haulage Watch could be a great new game for those irksome commutes that take up several hours of my weekdays.

posted by dave - 10:01 am

Monday, August 9, 2004My, how I'll miss the daily struggle that is selecting the Doherty of the Day. Oh well, nothing lasts forever, as Pete will prove. Sub-text readers will appreciate that I timed the final instalment perfectly to coincide with the release of the new Libertines single Can't Stand Me Now, which I nipped out and purchased this bleedin' wet but sweaty morning, getting into something of a tussle with a man in MVC who insisted on supplying me with a new members card. The CD (actually, there's 2, I'm a foolish completist) now nestles in my bag until later, when I shall moonwalk across the kitchen floor to it.

Purchased this month's Arena last night and was accused of buying "dirty magazines" by Sam. "But no," I pleaded, "It's a good read. There are some good reviews in there. And there's even a really interesting article about cheese. Look." But despite the big image of Stilton he was having none of it. Flicking through later on, checking out the 150 hottest babes of the last 16 years, I realised that the young chap might be right.Doherty of the Day (7/7):

Sunday, August 8, 2004Spiderman 2 rocks. Here's me thinking that it would be a chore sitting thru Tobey MacGuire's hi-jinx at York's art house emporium City Screen (ironic that there's a big song and dance about supporting European cinema before this Sony-backed blockbuster begins). But no, I loved it and loved the deafening THX sound. What I didn't appreciate were the two young ragamuffins sat behind us, who insisted on kneeing our chairs from the second they sat down. I had words and they moved up a few seats rather than be beaten to death in the dark. While that irritating Orange advert played one of them took the opportunity to use his mobile phone to arrange a post-film lift home. Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, he left his phone on and it rang as Tobey flew through the skyline. Some people have never been to the cinema before, have they?

Doherty of the Day (6/7):

Cause we lived my dream todayAnd I have lived it yesterdayAnd I'll have lived it tomorrowNo don't look at me that way

posted by dave - 10:19 pm

Saturday, August 7, 2004A traumatic weekend in the computer department. The laptop screen died, I killed the creaking PC trying to get it to handle a broadband connection. I am now typing in a screen resolution so big that each letter is the size of a domestic pet. Reliant on technology to get thru each day? That's me. Naturally, I've not backed up any of my very important data since the Commodore Amiga 500 days.

In other news I performed like the twattish Alan Titchmarsh (I should have opted for Tommy Walsh, as I'm a bit more certain of the spelling of his surname) by landscaping mother's garden in the blistering August heat. I even did a last minute Ground Force-style flurry dragging ma's new timber seat into position while she popped the kettle on, unawares. It all served as a good reminder that no matter how pretty the (almost) finished result might look, manual labour sucks. A trip to Frankie & Benny's Cosa Nostra-influenced 1950s era eatery capped off a busy few hours...

Doherty of the day (5/7):

If you've lost your faith in love and musicOh the end won't be longBecause if it's gone for you then I too may lose itAnd that would be wrong

posted by dave - 9:55 am

Friday, August 6, 2004Last night was all about cat concealment. We had to hide all traces of Penny, who lives with us illegally, from the people who came round to view the house. We did a great job, bundling her into an ample cage and hurling her, discreeetly and gently and along with her litter tray, outside and out of sight, before pruning the cat-clawed carpet, eating what was left of her food and dusting ourselves down to remove those stray hairs. It was only after the viewing, when we stood in the kitchen feeling incredibly proud of our ability to pull the metaphorical wool over future tenants' eyes, that we spotted a Brontasaurus-sized packet of cat treats on the window cil. With this level of stupidity, our admission into the CIA shouldn't prove too difficult.Doherty of the day (4/7):

I get along singing my song,People tell me I'm wrong..Fuck 'em!

posted by dave - 9:33 am

Thursday, August 5, 2004Our toilet seat has finally given up on us. Ten months of constant use are all it could take. For the past two months I have been constantly remounting the damn thing. But its final passing is like losing an awkward, difficult friend. You hated it but you wish it were still around. Yesterday we were totally sans seat. My love affair with the bathroom will never last in such difficult circumstances. I shall also have to read in a conventional chair.

There are a few almosts today. Almost awake. Almost moving house. Almost in eastern Europe. Almost lunch. Almost lost access to update the blog at work (why, those pesky grubby t-shirt wearing IT buffoons. I have come to the conclusion that the 'I' stands for inept). Almost at the Carling weekend. Almost watching Babyshambles. Almost, groan, backstage at a bleedin' awful pop music spectacular in Hull.Doherty of the day (3/7):

There are fewer more distressing sights than thatOf an Englishman in a baseball capYeah we'll die in the class we were bornThat's a class of our own my love

posted by dave - 11:08 am

Wednesday, August 4, 2004I love those nuggets of information you get from the site stats. Someone found and visited the blog during a search for "bumpy nipples". It's the 54th entry in 12,300 on a Google search. That's some determined bumpy nipples pervert.

posted by dave - 4:11 pm

Have just witnessed a man swearing at a tangerine. "Come here, you little fucking bastard," he yelped at it as it rolled out of the carrier bag that was at his ankles and down the road. "You little fucking bastard." Asked a man in Wilkinsons if he had a paint colour chart. "I don't work here," said the miserable fucker, as if a big yellow shirt and a badge that announced "Deputy Manager" automatically suggested that he had a bigger, more important, job elsewhere. "You have to fill it all in," said a very miserable teller in the bank as I handed over a hefty deposit, referring to the paying in slip. "I'll do it for you this time," she patronised. Thousands of websites have been blocked here at work in some apparent petty move to make people be more productive. Categories such as "shopping" and "real estate" are out of access...The Websense category "Personals and Dating" is also filtered, although why I'm looking at that on a pop-up window is beyond me. Weird, but a relief, that I can still edit my blog, given that I can't read the fine words on lots of other people's. But that just sums up how inept IT departments can be (there's some big problem here with spyware and adware programmes that they can't sort out. Fools). I bet they swear at tangerines too. Or, perhaps, they are tangerines.

Doherty of the day (2/7):

Oh my words in your mouthAre mumbled all aboutYou're like a journalistHow you can cut and paste and twistYou're awful

posted by dave - 3:43 pm

Tuesday, August 3, 2004Random slogan silliness noticed on a visit to the British Lung Foundation's website: "Because breathing is life". I'm flabbergasted.

posted by dave - 3:27 pm

Have scored tix to go see Pete Doherty Babyshambles style. Will he turn up? There's a lot of brown in Hull and he might get distracted en route. In honour of this up-coming treat I was accompanied in the car by a Pete-intact Libertines playing at full wallop. There wasn't quite enough to make the full journey so Up The Bracket was complemented by The Strokes' Last Nite and blast-from-the-past Suede's The Beautiful Ones before auto-reverse and Razorlight kicked in. My ears hurt but that's a good thing. Have also purchased The Ramones Spector-produced End of the Century. Where would I be without music? Lots better off, that's for sure. And there'd be room for more books. Where would I be without books? Oh, stop it...

Doherty of the Day (first of a seven part series):

Now I'm reversing down the lonely streetTo a cheap hotel when I can meet the pastAnd pay it off and keep it sweet

Monday, August 2, 2004Some daft moo was wittering on the radio this morning about graffiti. Blaming bling-bling rock stars for glamorising it all so that it appeared they were "still down wiv da kids" but prompting an increase in what she called "vandalism". I wonder if Sue Nelson, of Keep Britain Tidy, has ever seen any real graffiti? She reckons it's not artistic at all. What a loser. Of course it is, that's why it's been so embraced by the music industry for covers and backdrops. It looks fucking great. It ain't easy to do. If Picasso were around now, you bet he'd be daubing his tag all over an underground (overground wombling free) train. Think she's getting "I love Tracy" scribbled on a garage door with a felt marker mixed up with real graf writing, which is urban art and does deserve to live in museums and galleries. Just to confirm her loser status, Nelson also criticised Greenpeace for daring to use eye-catching graf-stylings in their campaigns. Tony Blair has also proved how out of touch he is, even though he occasionaly wields a Fender Strat (come on, Tony, get yourself a Les Paul!). Tony said, "Graffiti is not art, it's crime." But, considering that's coming from the man that told us there were definitely weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, I think we can take it with a pinch of salt. What an aerosol.

I have idled much of this weekend away by revamping my website. If anyone would care to take a peek, they'll notice that the content is still the same old dreary self-promoting rubbish but it's a tad more aesthetically pleasing. None of this time spent bashing away on a laptop that only works every second reboot will result in any work being slung my way, I shouldn't think, but I have a self-satisfied smug grin that only a man who spent his eye-break from his own site design to convert hex colours to RGB for graphics on someone else's site deserves to have. I am very excited right now because, at last, I am off to see Fahrenheit 9/11. Naturally it's not so much the thought of a documentary that's got the adrenaline pumping but the large portion of nachos and chillis that the lovely M will be treating me to. And dripping the cheese sauce down a new pair of Vans I bought in a sale (no, honestly, I really do mean cheese sauce). I'd tried to buy another pair of shoes in another shop yesterday only to be told, after a ten minute hunt in the stock room by the staff, that they only had one half of the pair. I am keeping my eyes peeled for a one-legged shoe buyer hopping up, down or around Gillygate and, when I find him, I shall be having words. Shit, it's August. How'd that happen?